Search This Blog

For dads are like that...

Rupsa was a bit sad, she had planned to do so many things today. She thought of going out with her friends for a hangout.
After all it's Sunday and who cares to mug things out in the first year.
But this sudden rain.
It might spoil the dress she had decided to wear.

Only last night she had talked with Arko, Sandy, Hemu.
They all made a plan. The venue would be that shopping plaza at Camac Street.
Arko was supposed to buy the tickets for a flick. Interestingly, she had gathered from her seniors in the college that the movie would help them very much in their studies.
The novel from which the movie had been made had been included in the syllabus.
That's another convincing reason to ask her father to allow her to watch the movie.
Her father, the least talkative person, (probably in the whole world!) just asked her the name of the novel.
She replied.
'You need to see that...it might have a bearing upon you...'
He had said and started reading an old book on the history of Indian Independence.
That's how Rupsa's father always had been.
Either reading, or writing, if he is home.
On Sundays, he loves more to stay home and to utilise the time.
On weekdays, he writes too, but not for long hours.

Contrary to her dad, her mom, always loves talking to people. She talks with her, tells stories of her own adolescence, her college life, her friends. Then with the maids she loves talking. She asks them about their life. If she will go to the market she will start talking with the people there.
Often Rupsa would get angry with her.

But Bipasha would just say,
'Always try to understand people, interact with them, people are never bad...'

'Ma...its raining and we are supposed to meet at near that plaza at Camac Street...my new pair of palazzo...'

'It will not rain the whole day...why worry?'
Saying this Bipasha went to the study with tea cup and breakfast for Subhro, Rupsa's dad.

Rupsa got ready and went out.

Arko, Hemu, Sandy were there.
The movie hall on the third floor was not fully filled up.
The movie, though one of the best acts of her favourite hero, Leonardo, was not a typical love story.

After all who would like to see the fall of American Dream?

But then...

Of the four Hemu and Sandy constantly bantered in the hall, while the movie was on, even getting at least for a couple of times, sharp rebuke from those who sat behind them.

Love birds they being, they just ignored all those remarks as mere digs from 'intellectuals'.

Arko however was watching it closely Rupsa noticed.
She thought she found a sudden tinge of sadness in Arko's face soon after the movie ended when they were going to the food corner.
She had never found Arko expressive.
She always looked upon him as a very studious, disciplined, sharp yet witty boy.

'That movie wasn't good, nah?'
Rupsa asked Arko.
'Na...it was quite okay...'
Arko had said as he signalled Sandy to order pizza for all.
'Give money to Sandy, your share only...'
Arko said.
'But of course!'
Rupsa went up to Sandy.
Hemu was also there at the counter.
Tokens were to be taken.
From there, standing as she was Rupsa tried to observe Arko.
He was writing something on a piece of paper napkin!

After the pizzas were gobbled up and soft drink glasses were emptied, Rupsa, finding Arko, absent minded still, asked,
"What were you doing on a piece of paper napkin?'
Arko turned pale.
He seemed to be completely taken aback.
'Oh! Nothing!'
He said.
'No... I had seen you...don't play tricks with me...'
Rupsa said, dancing her eyebrows.
'Do you have any intention to become Miss Marple?'
Arko asked.
'Then there should be an Agatha Christie!'
Rupsa quipped.

Arko looked at Rupsa.
'Do you have got Agatha Christie back home?'
'Only Agatha? We got Doyle, Ray, Sidney Sheldon, John Grisham...you want them?'
'Yes!!'
Arko said.
'But first you would have to show me what you were doing on that piece of paper ...'

'Yes... I think, at least you will give some importance to stuff like these...'
Saying this Arko brought out the paper, folded as it was in his hip pocket.
Rupsa opened it.
Arko had drawn a face of a girl.
It looked like that Daisy who was there in the movie!

'Arko! You're a great artist!'
Rupsa almost gushed.

Arko felt a bit embarrassed.
He blushed.
Rupsa for the first time saw how a boy of her age could even blush.

Then she remembered what her father said at the time she was preparing to go out.

'It might have a bearing upon you...'

Rupsa smiled.
'Dads are always like that...'
She thought.
The sun had come out of the clouds by then.
After a spell of rain, the dust got settled on the road too.

Get link

Facebook

Twitter

Pinterest

Google+

Email

Other Apps

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Evening
Traveling non stop,
This lullaby like
You as come,
On Your bosom weary me wishes to lie...
As if a Brahms
Casting a shadowy cool
As if those leaves yours wetness on my soul drop full...And O You
So Mother like
Run Your fingers through my hair so wet
And Your soft caress
Spreads all over...
As if from Up there
Like perfumed flower
You choose a descent
On me like a mother late
Evening kind of a sense...And see
Can't You the Unseen?
How me dies
Just on Your bosom lain like a child?And Brahms
As You
Sing a lullaby kind,
the sleep comes so to You me bind...

What a Sunshine
You bestow
On the plains of the city,
Still moving slow,
What a Sky
You like a cover spread
On my heart by hours of life so laid,
What a season festive
You hath painted
On roads by a forthcoming cause scented,
What a life
You so hath planted
In me like rays golden falling through , slanted...And how my self i evoke
By Your musical sunny dope,
As Keatsean Autumn in my heart i feel as a sense
With drops of a rise to a morning of pure balmy dewy dense,
As like a season of a painting like one Juan Fortuny,
A billboard holds a cane basket of flowers, fruits shiny,
Sparkling cars and buses i watch how ply by gold washed,
How with woken up eyes i see the world with curiousity unabashed,
Feeling how like wonder, Life
In vaulted times sweetly elapse...